


insatiable & incognito

by monicaposh



Series: varchie engagement series [4]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Engaged Varchie, F/M, Riverdale Kink Week, Roleplay, Smut, Technically not infidelity, They just like their alter egos, Varchie!Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicaposh/pseuds/monicaposh
Summary: Between bachelorette trips and bachelor parties, our favorite couple knows how to spice things up in this last installment before they tie the knot!
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Wilbur Wilkins/Monica Posh
Series: varchie engagement series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968157
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17
Collections: Riverdale Kink Week





	insatiable & incognito

* * *

“I want to see you again before the wedding,” he murmurs hoarsely against the throat of the blonde in his lap. She nips his ear and clutches his shirt with tiny fists, pulling him even closer. “Or else we’ll have to wait until I get back from my honeymoon."

She huffs in annoyance, always wanting his attention on her. _Only_ her. 

When Monica Posh sent him racy photos yesterday, begging to meet up, he knew he couldn’t deny her. She may be in his lap, but he’s had to make it abundantly clear that he keeps _Veronica_ on a pedestal. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a married man,” Monica purrs, nails scratching at his chest. “But I stand by my original assessment, that fiancée of yours is the luckiest woman in the world.” 

He hums in pleasure, kneading her ass with his fingers. Archie’s erection is throbbing painfully in his pants, feeling the warmth radiating from her center. 

Being with Veronica always feels like coming home, but this — with _her,_ feels like the best fucking vacation he’s ever been on. “But I think I could arrange one more meeting. For _you_ ,” she promises with a lick up the shell of his ear. 

She’s rubbing her hips against his so sinfully he’s about to pull her hand in his, hail a cab, and take her back to his place. 

_Fuck it all._

Instead, he lifts her into his arms, kicks a wooden door in and pushes her against the wall. 

When they’re not checking into hotels, they’re sneaking around and pressing against each other in nearly every hidden spot they can find. And boy does she know where to look. 

Archie never thought he’d be into something like _this_ — only pushing his limits through his own alter ego and with the safety of his fiancée — but _sometimes_ a little fun with this blonde is all he needs to unwind. And it’s so much fun. 

Veronica has been stressed about the wedding, only two and a half months until the big day, and busily working as fashion week approaches — which is exactly why he’s in a seedy bar on the other side of town nearing midnight on a Wednesday. And truthfully, even with his coming nuptials, he’s unsure how he’ll quit _her_.

“Archie, please,” she whines, wrapping her legs hastily around his waist. His hips follow hers, pinning her flat. “Give it to me, now,” she whines, and his head is fucking spinning. 

Needing to busy his hands with her, he flips up her dress and groans at the soaked strip of lace that greets him. Rubbing circles into hips that are gloriously tan and smooth, Archie curves his eager fingers to the golden skin gleaming towards the apex of her thighs. 

The purple lingerie is not a color his fiancée usually wears, and it’s got him reeling to see her naked and spread out before him, visions of purple lace and blonde hair throughout his mind. Archie tugs on the garment, lifting it up to rub her exactly right and pulls it up possessively along her slit. 

“Did you wear this for me?” He asks, adding a little more pressure on her. 

Her pointed chin juts out with courage and already, he can’t wait for what she’ll say next. “Everything I wear is for you,” she meets him with hooded eyes. “Wait until you feel how wet I am.”

“Fuck,” he growls out. His pants are tightening at the memories of _all_ the things she’s worn, _and not worn,_ for him during their nights together. 

Sometimes, there are more similarities between his fiancée and his mistress than he can rationalize, knowing he can’t go too long without either.

His thumb is determined, rubbing her, and coating the thin fabric with slick. He’s anticipating the sweet taste of honey when he pops his thumb into his mouth, watching her quiver at the motion. 

Archie leaves her bucking relentlessly against him, moving his hand to hold her firmly by her ass. Monica hisses and writhes when he squeezes the soft flesh possessively between his fingers. Her bottom lip pulled tight between her teeth and he wants to lean in and bite it till it’s on the verge of bleeding. 

His other hand snakes up to her breast, tracing her with much less pressure than she’s silently begging for. Some of the best hours with her have been spent doting on her chest, bringing her to the brink with his tongue and fingers. 

As his thumb grazes her nipple, he noticeably meets the peak with no bra beneath. He growls, pinching her slightly as her head drops back. 

The spaghetti straps of her sparkly top are so thin, it would be so easy…

“Oh, Archie,” she moans. 

He grinds against her, tempted to tear her expensive clothes at the seams in an effort to get her completely naked right now. 

Playing with the strand of satin, he decides and drops it over her shoulder. The top of her exposed breast is revealed, and Archie instinctively darts his tongue out to lick his lips, desperately wanting to taste the soft skin that teases him. 

Monica shimmies in his hold, leaning in to drag her teeth over his collar and scrape along his neck. “Oops,” she giggles. 

He follows her vision down to his shirt, eyes widening at a little lip print now staining his starched shirt. Never has she done this, leaving any trace of evidence other than the heady scent of her perfume and _now_ there’s something he needs to hide. He pushes her a little rougher against the wall in response. 

She smirks devilishly and detaches her hands from his chest, pushing the other strap of her top down slowly, _seductively_.

He’s met with her perfect breasts and quickly bends down to kiss them. His tongue laps at her, breathing her in greedily and sucking the sweetness from her skin. 

She’s keening above him, blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders and her dark eyes fluttering shut. Her painted lips part and she exhaled shaking, heart beating wildly through her skin. 

There are several telltale signs when she starts preening at his touch, getting adorably impatient. His favorite is when she gets aggressive and needy, like a clawing kitten craving attention. 

“You brought me here for a reason.” There’s a sharp pain coursing through his head when she tugs his hair, jerking his face back to hers. “What are you waiting for?”

He nearly comes, fumbling with his belt buckle and gasping when her tiny hands start working. 

Pushing down his heavy layers, he rips the fabric keeping her from him. Her clothes tear right down the middle, and his eyes roll back at the breathless moan she gives him in surprise. 

Archie circles around her opening, biting the inside of his cheek at how fucking _wet_ she is. His fingers skate around, not that she needs him to prepare her. He tugs himself free and sinks in slowly, relishing in the feel of her. Not caring if he’s damned to hell, he begs to the heavens that this isn’t the _last_ time he feels her like this.

This woman is strangling him in the most sensual form of pleasure, and she knows exactly what she’s doing, grinding down to meet each snap of his hips. Her ass slaps against his thighs and he’s a second from coming apart, watching hungrily as she caresses her body just to tantalize him. 

Their pace turns frantic and she wraps her arms around him like a life preserver, nails digging into him desperately. He chuckles at the thought of her needing to hold on so tight. Their combined moans are animalistic in the confined space, but he can’t be bothered to care. 

Her nails pierce the skin on his shoulder, so he digs bruises into her ass, feeling her squirm. “Harder,” she pants. 

Slapping a firm hand against the wall and balancing her on one arm, he slams her into the bathroom wall until he’s sure the stall is going to bust down. With each thrust, he’s hypnotized by the bounce of her breasts and the way they respond to his movement. 

Archie’s throat is constricting, and he feels like he’s _choking_ when she starts clenching around him, little flutters that have him pumping to release. 

There’s a burst of heat coursing up his spine when he comes, needing to drop his head against her naked collarbone to steady himself before resurfacing. 

His tongue traces the skin there while she lightly scratches his back. It always jolts him when he’s met with a heap of blonde hair, needing to look up and find the recognition in her dark, mysterious eyes.

Red lips smirk down at him, bringing him back home. 

“You better fuck like that _after_ you’re married, too.” 

  
  
  


With ten grueling, but successful, days of New York Fashion Week secured under her Gucci belt, Veronica packs her bags for Miami. She’s been looking forward to her bachelorette weekend long before she arranged her wedding party, knowing her tribe would deliver a fabulous weekend. 

She’s only been cc’d on _one_ chain of emails, the edited one tailored for the bride without the constant check-ins amongst her friends. With her busy month at work, she’s grateful for the lack of extra emails right now. Knowing Betty, everything's written exchange is filled with details and updates — she’s experienced it all year with her maid of honor’s incessant back and forth over the bridal shower, the flowers and bridesmaid dresses. 

Out of everyone going on this trip, Kevin is the most patient and Veronica watched him roll his eyes at the umpteenth _ding_ from the group yesterday at lunch. 

She and Archie fought tooth and nail over whose side Kevin would stand on during their ceremony. Archie won out due to their decade plus friendship and the fact that he was still short a groomsman, and in an effort to _compromise_ Veronica still booked him as an attendee for her bachelorette. 

She’s been lamenting over packing all month, grateful for the pieces she snagged from the Vogue Closet and always looking for an excuse to shop. 

She and Cheryl hit a few places for caftans and clubbing clothes — something she admittedly hasn’t purchased in a few years. 

After narrowing down her favorite swimsuits and tossing in an extra sarong, Veronica abandons her nearly filled luggage to get a glass of Merlot. Her jewelry hasn’t even been touched. 

It would have been wiser to have Katy come and pack her wardrobe like old times. 

She jumps at the counter when their doorbell chimes, corking the decanter and walking to the door with a still-skittish heart. 

“Yes?” Veronica questions into the buzzer, already annoyed by whoever is keeping her from the freshly poured glass of wine. 

“Hello, beautiful. I’m here for your appointment,” a velvet voice greets from downstairs. “I think you’ll be _pleased_ with what’s in store for you, Miss Lodge.”

A dark sensation trickles into her belly when she checks the monitor to confirm her immediate suspicion. Her mouth waters as she studies her visitor, he barely fits in the frame of the video. 

His eyes are hidden behind aviator sunglasses, strong body covered in a grey hoodie _and_ a leather jacket over top. He’s certainly not _Archie_ but her secret lover always has her ready to kneel at his command with her hands behind her back. 

“Well, hello,” she tries her best to sound sexy over the intercom. “I’ve _been_ ready for you to show up.” _It’s been too long._

Veronica presses the button to grant him entry into the building, fluffing her hair and checking her reflection in the mirror. 

Growing up in New York City, she has enough common sense to not welcome just anyone into her home unannounced — especially not the home she shares with Archie. _Especially_ sexy men with deep voices and broad shoulders. But when it comes to a man like _him,_ she’s willing to make an exception. 

Veronica rises up on her tiptoes to watch through the peephole as the tall figure comes into view and towers over her doorway. There’s a heavy, but succinct, rapt against the door, jilting her from her post and sending a shiver down her spine. 

Unlocking the front door, she takes a deep breath and opens it just a crack. “Mr. Wilkins,” she breathes out, eyeing up the tempting piece of meat before her. “What a pleasure, indeed.”

His smirk is dangerous. 

Veronica’s core pulses in realization that _months_ have passed since she’s seen him, surprising her on her last year’s birthday. It feels like _even longer_ as she stands before him, already so turned on and subconsciously offering herself like prey, but nights with _him_ are the ones she replays with her fingers under the covers while Archie snores in their bed beside her. 

In, and out of, the bedroom Veronica mostly tops but loves when her lover loses control, always keeping her on pins and needles. He’s always skimming the line passion and possession with her and she eats it up, basking in all the attention he gives her. 

Wilbur doesn’t come around often, but when he does, Veronica will drop everything on her schedule — and her panties — to spend even an hour giving into his every whim. 

He keeps a distance — sending texts and requesting nudes once in a while. She spends any hours outside of work with her redheaded prince, planning their fairytale wedding. 

Wilbur is certainly not that prince, the total opposite of her precious Archiekins, giving her the darkness in a man she sometimes craves. He takes her obsessive control and gives her back the darkest, most hidden fantasies she’s ever desired. 

The carnal passion they share is enough to have her craving him like an addict, needing to lay down her arms and risking it all to please him. 

Veronica opens the door wider, silently welcoming him into her home. 

“He’s not here tonight?” He checks with a thick, copper eyebrow high on his forehead.

She shakes her head, watching him shrug off his jacket and hoodie with a pleased smile. 

His muscles are bulging under his white t-shirt, cheeks flushed red from the late winter cold. She wants to pull him closer by the shirt and kiss him senseless, thinking of a hundred ways to warm him right up, but she knows from experience to wait. 

But his eyes are dark, and his mouth is in a set line. with a suggestive smirk. “I was disappointed when you couldn’t meet last week,” he drawls, closing in on the space between them. “I hope you weren’t thinking of leaving before returning my calls. You know how it upsets me.”

Veronica bites her lip, core throbbing at the sight of him. “What are you going to do about it?”

There’s mischief in his eyes and she’s quickly shifting into her role, feeling months of frustration and the countless buttons she pushed in hopes of ending up here. All of it is pouring into the sexual tension hanging above, charging them for the inevitable. 

She’s been _waiting_ for this. 

He’s moving past her into the apartment, still without touching her and she now notices the equipment he’s carrying with him. A collapsible table appears in her living room, and she keeps her eyes on his fingers as he adjusts the height. 

“Go get undressed, come back in five minutes in your underwear and a cover. You’re getting the full body treatment tonight.” He brushes past her, finally reaching for her waist. She nearly melts at the contact, surprised when his lips ghost her ear. “I don’t want you forgetting the feel of my hands worshipping you for one second while you’re away.”

Veronica trembles at his tone, his words intrusive yet welcome. She does as she’s told — as he suggests — returning to the living room in a sheer black dressing robe _fifteen_ minutes later. 

“I was wondering how long I’d be waiting,” he starts. “But for you I…” 

It’s _hot,_ the way his eyes widen as she struts toward him, knowing what her naked body looks like under this and revealing _just_ enough skin to get him worked up. 

Her nipples harden, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows with desire. “Why — why don’t you lay on the table and finish getting undressed under the sheet.” He suggests and she wonders how close to breaking he actually is, seeing the way he struggles to be assertive. 

With a pull of her sash and a shrug of her shoulders, Veronica shimmies out of the robe, leaving her bare to him. 

“Like this?” She asks coyly, biting her lip and batting her lashes. 

He stops lighting the candle in his hand, eyes drinking her in like he’s parched. 

“Lay face down, head in the holster.” His authoritative voice both soothes her and sets her on edge, washing over her as she lays naked on the table. 

“I can see how tense you are from here.” He observes, rubbing his large palms together with oil. 

She twists her torso under the warm sheet and feels brazen enough to prop herself up on an elbow, the side of her bare breast clear in his view. “What do you say you work out some of my kinks, then?” 

  
  
  


_“What do you say you work out some of my kinks, then?”_

His breath doesn’t seem to come as fast as he needs it to, praying for a moment to collect himself. 

While Veronica left him to change, he worked on the setup, dimming the lights and streaming music through the Bluetooth speaker. 

Now, the candles he lit around the room highlight her exposed skin like gleaming gold. 

He hardens, thinking of her naked body surrounded by the glow of candles and the way he could watch her center drip like wax from a candle. 

It’s like she can read his mind. “Have you ever considered wax? I know you’ve mentioned it once or twice when we met.” 

It’s something he hasn’t thought of since she revealed that hidden fantasy. 

“Yes,” he groans out. “For a special occasion.” 

He watches as her deep brown eyes grow wickedly dark. 

“Lay all the way down now,” he instructs.

He adjusts himself in his pants, willing himself to get through the next hour while remaining totally in control tonight. 

Archie has always prided himself on being a professional in whatever he does, having learned how to steer clear of the women who throw themselves at him. Starting back when Veronica Lodge moved to Riverdale, joined the River Vixens and watched him talk to the other cheerleaders with an adorable scowl. 

Archie Andrews never seeks out trouble, but _he_ has more of a reckless side willing to play with fire, giving back as good as Veronica does. 

Beautiful beauty marks are scattered all over her back and he wastes no time connecting them with the gliding of his hands. 

“What incredible hands you have,” she breathes as he takes a lap up the narrow side of her spine. “So capable and strong, yet _intuitive_.” 

He nearly dissolves at the way she moaned that last word, pushing to continue tracing the lines of her body. 

“Ah,” she does it again. “It’s like you know _just_ what I want.”

His chest puffs up in pride, wanting to keep it that way. 

“Turn over on your back.” He instructs after a few beats of silence, needing to take back the reins of this whole evening and remember _he’s_ in charge right now. 

Veronica turns over slowly, so he reaches a hand across her to securely hold the sheet in place. When she’s settled and tucked under the white linen, he steps back and appreciates how beautiful she is. _Every inch is perfect._

“You know, once I’m married, I could make it worth your while to make house calls every week,” she purrs as she shamelessly looks over his body. “Double pay, plus tips.”

He smirks at Veronica’s cheekiness, unable to bite back his amusement. Instead, he relaxes the muscles in his face and leans down to touch her. 

“I’m not sure how your future _husband_ will feel about that.” He says a little too defensively. 

His hands snake around her neck, holding her in place with a little added pressure on the right spot. 

Veronica shivers in his hold and he tells himself she’s probably chilly, maybe he should offer to turn up the heat. _No._

Leaning down to be level with her head, he whispers against her ear and it feels way more sensual than it should. “Are you too hot?”

He can _feel_ her breath hitch under his hands, unable to quiet the primal animal awakening within him. The noises leaving her throat have him ready to rip off the sheet and selfishly forget his plan, knowing she _needs_ this. 

The sheet shielding her from vision pulls tight, catching his attention from his place behind her head. He can barely make out the tips of her nipples, poking up at the fabric. 

Somehow, his hands stay in character, rubbing more oil to roam her body. It’s arousing to watch her from this angle, satisfied with the attention he’s giving her. Keeping his eyes on Veronica, he walks around the table. 

Working on her lower half, he pulls up a few inches of the sheet and rubs the pressure points of her sensitive feet. His intent of eliciting such a reaction is a success when he hears the curse fall from her mouth. It gets her attention as she bites her lip and whimpers under her breath. He does a double take, expletives and moans pouring out of her mouth. 

It’s dangerous this way, having her _almost_ bared to him and arching her back when he touches her in some places. 

More time passes and the sounds she’s emitting are not allowing him to focus. He rips the sheet off her body, muscles tightening at the way her thighs immediately fall apart for him. 

“I also offer a private massage for special clients,” he explains with a timbre in his voice. “Using my tongue.”

She quakes when he meets her center, and he licks her up like the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted — a sacred flavor he craves every single day. The way her toes curl, dark little nails, have him wanting to lick his way up her body from head to those cute toes after this. 

Veronica comes on his tongue, fingers pulling his hair as her ring constantly scrapes against his scalp. 

He looks up, grabbing her hand and dropping kisses to her knuckles before placing a lingering one on her diamond. 

“Stop smiling like that,” he scolds playfully. “I’m nowhere near finished working out these kinks.”

  
  
  


The Florida sunshine is exactly what her soul needed after the frigid February in New York. Miami is beautiful, sun shining and endless mojitos keeping her in a good mood. The group returns home tomorrow and Veronica is soaking up every last minute. 

At brunch the first day, Betty announced that everyone had planned one thing to do on the trip. 

Katy arranged for a day of shopping in Bal Harbour while Cheryl booked facials in Brickell. Kevin opted for a day at Nikki Beach with top-of-the-line drinks and snacks. She couldn’t help but smirk at the handsome, and shirtless, waiters while Kevin just spread out behind his shades. 

Yesterday, Hiram chartered a yacht for the group, providing full-service meals and accommodations. They sunbathed on the bow and waved their champagne glasses to all passerby on the Biscayne Bay. 

Tonight, Josie has arranged for a private dinner at the Versace Mansion followed by everyone’s suggestion of hitting the nightclubs in South Beach. Veronica is anticipating a memorable meal at the iconic location followed by a much-needed wild time. It’s been a long time since she’s really let her hair down. 

Veronica straps on her heels, wrapping them up her calves in appropriate Versace attire, when her phone buzzes from the dresser. 

**_Reggie_ **

“Hello?” She answers. 

“Hey, Veronica.” He says over the line. “I know it’s your last night in Miami —”

“— Is Archie ok?” She asks in a panic, wondering why the fuck Reggie is calling her now.

He chuckles. “Archie is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about his bachelor party next weekend.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. She told Reggie to plan whatever he wanted but explicitly told him she didn’t want to know all the sordid details. 

Before she can remind him of that in a clipped, authoritative tone, he continues. 

“I have it all planned at that club but he’s reluctant to allow strippers. Wednesday Addams seems to agree so I’m alone here, planning this.”

“Ok, so what do you want _me_ to do? It’s hardly appropriate for his fiancée to arrange them.” She’s on the verge of disconnecting this call, holding up a hand as Betty waves her attention that the Uber is almost here.

“Well, I was thinking…” His voice tunes out while her imagination begins running rampant. 

  
  
  


After a week of enjoying Veronica being home, Archie is dragged out by the guys for his bachelor party. They’ve hit a string of bars and he’s got a sinking suspicion that they’re on their way to a strip club next. 

Reggie is beaming while Jughead treads behind him. Moose and Kevin seem indifferent, more focused on each other, and a few of the other guys trickle in with drunken smiles on their faces. 

“First rounds on me!” Reggie yells. 

The club is nicer than Archie expected, though seemingly right in line with Reggie’s taste. Truthfully, he’s had a blast all night but right now he’d rather be with his girl — already upset that this is the _third_ Friday night in a row they’re not together. 

Reggie returns with a tray of shots, passing two to Archie. “For good measure, Andrews.” He says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

Archie downs the shots, feeling the liquor burn his throat. He chokes down a cough as the stage lights up and dancers start to form around their VIP section. 

“Reg,” he warns a little nervously. 

The raven-haired boy throws his head back in laughter, slamming his shot glass down and signaling to a waitress for more. “I may have gone behind your back, but all the guys and I pitched in for a private dance.” Reggie must see the look on his face, quickly amending his reveal. “Don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”

If his heart weren’t on the verge of falling through his stomach, he’d recognize the drawl of the drumroll and the gigantic cake rolled out before them. 

Kevin squeezes his shoulders and even Jughead is laughing at him now, shaking his head in amusement. 

The top of the cake pops open and Archie barely registers his friends, _or_ the hundred-some faces turning to him, seeing only _her._

There’s a rush of blood through his ears and he nearly swallows his tongue. He doesn’t hear the hoots and hollers of the party, only picking up the velvet crooning of her voice now playing through the club. For him.

The blonde wiggles her hips and perches on the edge, kicking a leg up and making a show of bending it back a little more — knowing how much he loves holding her under him like that.

Archie looks on disbelievingly at the woman with eyes on him. His palms get a little clammy, feeling the urge to rub them dry on his pants before he looks like a mess. But by the heat flaring up his neck, he’s sure it’s already clear. 

She pulls herself up, looking like Veronica did when she’d danced as a River Vixen and his heart aches at the familiarity. 

It also gets him straining roughly against his jeans. 

For one second, he’s furious, toeing the line of flipping out. _She’s_ exposed herself, _their secret_ , for everyone here and their friends. 

The last few years have been hard enough knowing Reggie has seen _her_ before, just like he had. 

Before he can brood on that, he’s enveloped by her as he always is. Archie is certain she’ll always appear like this and dominate his thoughts at her command, no matter how long and happy his marriage is, but he’s starting to think that’s ok. 

She’s in his lap, applause shouted her way from the guys. Archie briefly spots Kevin in his peripheral, jumping up and down on the next couch over with Moose. The two men shoot off some confetti and it settles him, finally chuckling at it all. 

Archie _knows_ you’re not supposed to _touch_ in a place like this, but he also knows he can _reach_ for something that’s already _his_. 

_Monica_ kinks a dark eyebrow at his attempt, enclosing her small hands halfway around his wrists and rolling her hips to let him down easily. 

“Save it for the private room, Archiekins.” She breathes warningly in his ear.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, dumbfounded as he shifts into some kind out of body experience. 

She laughs and he’s sure it’s from his panting.

But then she’s _touching_ him, and he feels it all over. 

“I told you I’d see you again before you’re _officially_ off the market,” she winks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Last year I wrote Monica and Wilbur together (my OTP, lets be real), I wanted to explore Archie and Veronica with their alter egos on different occasions. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> There were too many storylines in this one, so it's already planned for the next series! Stay tuned for next year's kink week : the varchie married series <3 Thanks Vik for always helping me!
> 
> One last piece to come - the wedding!


End file.
